


Red Nail Polish

by grievingcain



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 14:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16976298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grievingcain/pseuds/grievingcain
Summary: Shinguji asks for Amami to paint his nails.





	Red Nail Polish

“Amami.”

Amami stopped walking towards his room when he heard his name spoken in a smooth voice behind his back and turned around to see the person who called him. He smiled when he laid his eyes on the eccentric figure of Korekiyo Shinguji.

“Shinguji. Hello.”

“I’ve heard from Akamatsu that you have some unexpected skills,” Shinguji said, his voice as low and calm as always.

“Oh? What’ve you heard?” Amami asked, curious.

“She’s told me you painted her nails.”

“I did,” Amami replied. And then a sudden thought slipped into his head and he asked: “Do you want me to paint yours?”

It didn’t sound like a weird question for him. For some reason, he could easily imagine Shinguji painting his nails. He hoped he wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, actually,” Shinguji replied after a few seconds of silence. “I was hoping you’d paint mine as well. If that’s no trouble for you, of course.”

“Sure not, I would love to,” he smiled. “I was going to take a shower now. Would you mind going to my room in about half an hour?”

“Not at all.”

“I see you then!”

Amami waved happily and continued his way to his room.

xxx

Amami was drying his hair with a towel when he heard a knocking on his door. He looked at the clock on top of his bedside table and smiled. As expected, Shinguji was extremely punctual.

He left the towel on top of a chair and went to open the door for his guest.

“Good evening, Amami,” Shinguji said.

“Hello again, Shinguji. Come in!”

Shinguji made his way inside Amami’s room and looked around, seemingly to be analyzing the room, interested in knowing how Amami lived. He noticed a few knick-knacks from the vending machine and some books from the library on his desk. The boy seemed to be getting around finding things to do while they were trapped in that school.

“What color do you want?” Amami asked as he closed the door and walked closer to his guest. “I noticed we hadn’t discussed this so I picked a few, I hope there’s one to your liking.”

Shinguji was fast to reply.

“Do you have red?”

“Red? A daring choice, Shinguji!”

“It’s my sister’s favorite color.”

Amami’s smile got brighter. There it was. He’d heard Shinguji talking about his sister before. He seemed to be a very caring brother and Amami surely could relate to that sentiment.

“Red it is, then.” Amami said as he moved to his desk to pick the chosen nail polish from inside a drawer. “Come, let’s sit on my bed.”

Amami sat with his legs crossed on top of his bed and looked at Shinguji with a pleasant smile on his face. Shinguji calmly started to undo the straps on his boots, and once he was done taking them off he left them by the bed. He got onto Amami’s bed and sat with his legs crossed right in front of Amami, noticeably closer than they had ever been before, their knees almost touching. Shinguji wasn’t bothered by proximity, and Amami didn’t seem to be either.

“Gimme your hand,” Amami said, extending his own towards Shinguji as if he was asking him for a dance.

Shinguji put his hand on top of Amami’s and only then Amami noticed that Shinguji’s hands were already free from the bandages he usually wore around them. Amami was half expecting to see marks and scars on them, probably as the reason he kept them hidden. But what he saw was the exact opposite. Shinguji’s hands were pale and his skin was smooth. He had long fingers, like a pianist’s, and his nails were perfectly clipped and filed a little longer than how a man would usually keep his. His hands were surprisingly feminine, and Amami caught himself staring at them in wonder.

“Something wrong?” Shinguji asked.

“Ah,” Amami woke from his thoughts. “No, nothing. It’s just… You have beautiful hands, Shinguji.”

“Thank you,” he replied. Amami couldn’t see his face but he could swear there was a shadow of a smile behind the fabric of his mask.

“I hope you don’t take this as an offense, but they don’t even look like a man’s hands.”

Now he was sure there was a smile underneath the mask.

“I’m not offended at all,” he said. “It was my sister who taught me to take care of my hands. She used to paint my nails too, because it was the only thing I could never learn to do perfectly, at least not to myself.”

“Painting your own nails is difficult, you need practice,” Amami replied. “It’s nice that your sister taught you these things. I’m the one who had to teach my sisters.” He laughed.

“Really?”

“Yes! I learned how to paint nails and do makeup because my little sisters would always ask for help. I did everything to help them, even watched video tutorials online and bought magazines about makeup and stuff. Turns out I’m actually very good with girly things nowadays,” he finished, smiling sheepishly.

“You did it all for them?”

“Of course! I love my sisters a lot. But I gotta admit I took a liking to the thing, so I don’t mind practicing techniques on myself and even wearing makeup sometimes.”

“Most guys would consider it an affront to their masculinity.”

“Maybe because I have always lived surrounded by girls I never cared about that.”

Shinguji smiled again.

“That’s what’s so beautiful about you, Amami.”

Amami blushed. He knew what Shinguji meant by that, the boy was very vocal about how he thought everything humanity had to offer was beautiful somehow, but he couldn’t control his reactions. Shinguji was a mysterious figure, being praised by him made Amami’s heart skip a beat. Still smiling shyly, he grabbed the nail polish by his side.

“Let’s get started then,” he said.

Shinguji nodded.

Amami uncapped the nail polish and got to work.

Shinguji took interest in observing the other boy as he worked. Amami’s smile didn’t fade as he painted Shinguji’s nails. He looked like he was concentrating but also enjoying what he was doing. They fell into a pleasant silence, only broken when Amami finished the first hand and asked Shinguji for the other one, which was promptly extended to him.

The entire process took about half an hour.

“It’s done,” Amami happily announced. “What do you think?” he asked.

Shinguji observed his nails, his face unreadable behind the mask that hid half of it, but Amami was almost sure the answer to his question was positive judging by how the boy’s eyes were shining.

“Thank you, Amami,” Shinguji finally replied. “I love it.”

“That’s good!” He felt his heart skip a beat once again. “Now you just have to wait for it to dry completely. Would you...” he hesitated. “Would you like a drink or something?”

Shinguji didn’t reply immediately, still looking at his newly painted red nails. Amami was wondering if even heard the question when he finally replied.

“No, thank you. But I would like to talk more with you, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Amami was afraid he sounded more excited than he had meant to.

“And I don’t mean only now. I would like to talk more with you other times too, Amami. I think you’re a very interesting person. I’ve heard you like travelling and I feel that we could learn a lot with each other.”

Amami’s smile grew wider.

“Of course, I’d love to talk more with you, Shinguji!”

“I’m glad,” this time Amami could clearly see the smile behind Shinguji’s mask. “Then I would like to hang out with you tomorrow… There are some places here I haven’t visited yet, we could go and explore together if you’d like.”

“Sounds fun! Let’s do that.”

Shinguji nodded.

“And one more thing…” he paused. Amami looked at him, curious. “Would you like me to paint your nails in return? Mine are almost completely dry.”

Amami smiled sheepishly.

“Sure!”

“Then… what color would you like?”

Amami seemed to ponder for a couple of seconds.

“I think green really suits me,” he said, smiling.

He was sure he could see the shadow of a smile behind Shinguji’s mask.

“Green it is then.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting here for a while now, but I decided to post it bc I actually like it... just the ending bugs me a little but oh well. I hope someone enjoyed reading this!! Kudos and comments are love!!


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